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Topic: 04.19.2127 - White Rascal (Read 8264 times)

The wooden bench and small stack of books looked out of place, as if they had been deposited in the corner adjacent to the entry alcove as an afterthought. When he made it to them, guests snatching cheese from his food tray still on his shoulder as he went, he guessed as to their purpose. All of the books were fantasy night-time stories written for children. He looked about and noted that there was indeed a very small number of children about. This pile must have been left for them if and when they got bored of the festivities around them, which none of them appeared to be just yet.

Harrison put the tray on the bench beside him as he sat down, momentarily forgetting about his charge and reached for one of the books, the shapes of fairies etched in it's hardbound cover. As his fingers touched the book he was distracted by a gasp of awe in the crowd. He turned towards them, and then faced up towards the balcony where they all gazed.

At the edge of the white marble platform that extended from the third floor balcony stood a figure of incredible beauty. A young girl in the costume of an angel.

She wore a short-sleeved dress of white gossamer silk, the light behind her silhouetting her thin frame underneath it. Her face, and all other bare skin not covered by the dress, was painted with a layer of soft-toned silver make-up, her lips accentuated with white lipstick and her eyes painted with white eye-shadow matched white feathers that framed her face. These white feathers were held by a delicate tiara, upon which was mounted a shield-shaped diamond at its center. Her long brown hair underneath the headpiece was formed into a tight braid and rested on her left shoulder. Along the length of her hair a myriad of silver-spun strands and white silk cords lovingly wrapped around the braid from tiara to its end at her stomach. Each silver strand was bejeweled with an array of aquamarine gems and diamonds. But what completed the other-worldly facade was the life-like wings which seemed to move lightly back and forth behind and above her. The huge wings of the whitest feathers surrounded her small frame and looked so much like a part of her, that she truly appeared as the Angel she was sent here to portray.

Harrison thought Emma was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire short life.

Like many guests in the audience, he simply stared at her for a few turns. One by one though, as the party-goers realized she wasn't going to speak and was simply another glamorous decoration of the festival, they turned back to their conversation.

Harrison however had a heart-wrenching epiphany, as he looked upon the toes of her soft white slippers. They extended dangerously beyond the ledge of the platform that had no rail. Where everyone else at the party saw a beautiful little girl playing the part of angel, Harrison feared something completely different. He suddenly realized why she was covered in silver make-up, for it completely covered the bruises Fresenius had made on her days ago.

With a moment of panic Harrison, unsure of his friend's emotional state, didn’t know what to do. He looked into her eyes and from the distance, could swear that they were wet with tears. He thought of yelling to her but then sighted Leslie walking past and behind Emma and quickly realized he was allowed to serve[/i] on the third floor.

Harrison descided that there was great need for care. Emma's father already knew about him and the little transaction they'd had, and it wouldn't help anything for the two to be seen together again.

Upon further thought, Harrison realized that most of the crowd would be watching her off and on throughout the entire night. As much as he wanted to run up there, wipe off the makeup and expose her father for the scum he was, and carry her off to safety... now was not the time.

With a deep breath, he decided that the best, the only thing he could do, was to let Emma bare this burden alone.

With a tear brimming in one eye, he pulled his hat down to cover his face and continued serving. He could only hope that Clive was tucked stealthly somewhere within her wings. At least maybe he could bring her some measure of comfort.

Harrison ground his teeth and cracked his knuckles as he passed time by imagining the slow painful death he'd bring Fresenius when the time came. He knew it'd be a long time, which would give him the chance to think of some pretty awful things.

The night did indeed seem to pass along at a crawling pace. For almost two hands, Harrison went back and forth from the kitchen. A dozen times he refreshed his silver platter with more cheese and went out to feed the guests who seemed to have no end to their appetite for drink, finger food and extremely boring conversation.

It was on his return through the busy corridor that a small hand reached out and grabbed him, stopping him in mid-stride and almost tipping the tray from his shoulder.

He looked angrily over his right shoulder at the grabber, a bit of fire in his eyes. Eyes which were fueled with hate and filled with the fantasies of the visual of Fresenius being tortured in all manner of ways. They softened when he realized their real target was now merely another serving girl, who, stepped back from his intimidating glare.

The girl was extremely pretty, with long blonde hair and intense green eyes. She was dressed in the same serving garb and was about his age Harrison guessed.

“Um...hello,” the girl began, now a bit uncertain. “My name is Kristen. I merely have a message to convey to you should you be who I think you are.”

Harrison merely blinked at her.

“What’s your name?” Kristen asked, a bit slighted that he didn’t pick up on the hint.

Great! he thought. Her father's going to see them dancing and Harrison would be the one wearing silver make up!

A quick thought of what Harrison would do in retaliation flashed through his mind.

This girl certainly didn't know what was good for her. Far to reckless. With a mental sigh, he decided he'd take the risk.

Harrison pursed his lips slightly and bobbed his head. "Tell her that sounds... diverting." He continued bobbing his head while watching the pretty face go from warm and friendly to slightly confused and startled.

Perhaps a different word would have been better, you dolt.

He quickly changed the subject by sticking his mostly empty serving tray in front of her. "Cheese?" he asked.

The question made Harrison uncomfortable, though he wasn't certain why. He didn't like when people knew things about him. He didn't know this girl, and he certainly wasn't about to trust her.

"We went to school together," he said flatly. It was true after all, Clive had always gone to school with Harrison. It wasn't a lie, even if it wasn't an answer to her question.

With a small bob of his head, he excused himself. "Gotta get some more cheese, the guests are hungry."

Harrison's eyes fell on a fat patron, who was rubbing his stuffed belly. He could read the mans lips saying "I'm stuffed". He admitted to himself that actually no one had taken a cheese cube for about an hour at that point.

Kristen had laughed at Harrison's backhand humor (OOC: yeah, I guess you aren't playing Griznuq the MT in here). As he turned to go she reached out and gently tugged at his arm to stop him, when he looked back she in turn looked around to verify that no one was listening.

She then said in a tone a bit more quiet, "I have a friend who has a smart pet just like yours. If you want to meet him sometime and compare animal tricks, I am sure he would get a kick out of it."

Harrison's blood boiled, though he showed no outward sign. Clyve was no pet! a PET chased yarn! a PET fetched slippers!

Still though, the idea that there may be someone else with talents simiar to his own took the edge off of the unintended bite. Perhaps it would be healthy for him to meet other people anyway. "I would like that," he said.